


A Night on the Town

by thescorpiondoctor



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Pre-War Cybertron, Siblings, adopted brothers - Freeform, adoptive older and younger brothers, bros being bros, cuteness, enforcers - Freeform, random drabble, robot cops, two cops chilling in a restaurant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 16:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21461122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescorpiondoctor/pseuds/thescorpiondoctor
Summary: Two enforcer brothers chilling in a restaurant in a pre-war Cyberton.This is just a mini clip of two of my original characters Nightlatch and Pounce, who are adopted brothers. Not sure if I'll expand this or not, but I figured I'd put it out there because I think it's cute.
Kudos: 1





	A Night on the Town

**Author's Note:**

> Crude oil is the cybertronian equivalent of black coffee, while what Pounce has is the cybertronian equivalent to a bucket of whipped cream and sprinkles. No wonder Nightlatch is concerned for his brother's health.

“How can you drink that-...” Nightlatch huffed, wrinkling his enstril in disgust as he watched the smaller enforcer effortlessly chugging a large glass of whipped energon and bismuth sprinkles, the container of which was about the size of the smaller bot’s torso. 

The smaller bot paused a moment, licking his dermas and hefting the giant cube onto the table, setting it down and then laying back in his chair with a look of utter contentment on his faceplate. “I dunno, Night. I just can.” he replied with a small shrug.

Nightlatch frowned, taking a delicate little sip out of his mug of crude oil. “It’s disgusting, Pounce. You’re going to make yourself sick. At least put some actual energon or oil or something in that thing. That much….. Foam… can’t be good for you.”

“But it tastes good. And look-! At least I put some minerals on it this time!” Pounce said, gesturing to the multicolor flakes of bismuth on top of the energon froth. 

“That doesn’t count. And I can’t believe you’re drinking that in public.” Nightlatch lowered his voice to a low whisper. “We’re supposed to be undercover. You drinking that abomination is going to draw attention to us. Why can’t you be normal and drink stuff like regular energon or crude oil? Crude oil is better for you, and it won’t leave you on the floor in a fuel coma afterwards. Plus, it’s cheaper. You could spend the shanix you save on upgrades or emergency repairs or even a new paint job if you’re into that.” 

Pounce grabbed his cube full of foam and pulled it closer, taking another long chug before wiping his intake on his arm and turning back towards his brother. “Mmmmmmm- fuel comas-.” he purred, a blissful smile spreading across his face. “I think my tank can handle it, and honestly, what do you care about what I spend my shanix on? It’s my money. I earned it. And if I want to spend it on sweet, foamy energon goodness, then I sure will.” 

“Can you at least try some regular energon or oil with your bucket of toppings for once?” Nightlatch grumbled, shaking his helm as he watched Pounce down a bit more of the concoction. 

“Alright. Fine. I’ll try some.” Pounce replied with a roll of his optics, reaching out and grabbing the mug from Nightlatch’s servo and taking a swig before the taller enforcer had a chance to stop him. 

Poune’s expression twisted to one of utter disgust as he quickly spat the oil back into Nightlatch’s mug and gagged. He then grabbed his own drink, if it could even be called that, and proceeded to tip it back so fast that the pale blue foam began trickling down the sides of his face during his desperate attempt to cleanse his palate. Once he had finally gotten the taste out of his intake, he looked over at his brother with wide optics and shook his helm. “How do you even DRINK that stuff? It tastes TERRIBLE-!” 

“I happen to have built up a certain tolerance for it. It’s an acquired taste.” Nightlatch deadpanned. He was so tempted to overturn his mug of oil over Pounce’s head and drizzle it down his back plating, however he refrained from doing so and instead got up from the table and proceeded to dump the drink in the waste receptacle. After that, the tall and wiry black, white, and spearmint green mech walked over to the counter of the establishment and ordered another cup of crude oil. He then brusquely walked over and sat down next to Pounce, a low growl rumbling in his engine. 

“Why’d you toss that? You coulda drank it and saved shanix, y’know-” Pounce asked, trying to hide his smirk of amusement at the scowl that had taken over his brother’s face. 

“And drink your oral lubricant? No, Pounce. That’s disgusting. And not to mention unsanitary.” Nightlatch huffed, hiding his frown behind his mug as he took a delicate little sip. 

Pounce snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose. Here- you wanna sip of mine?” 

“No. I’d probably crash from sensory overload.” Nightlatch growled. 

“Aw, c’mon! Just a sip?” Pounce asked, giving his elder brother a pleading look. 

Nightlatch rolled his optics behind his visor. “Hfffft- fine. Just a taste. But I’m not drinking out of the corner that you drank out of. I don’t want your backwash.”

“Sure thing.” Pounce cheerily said, handing his gigantic cube over to his brother. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” Nightlatch grumbled, cautiously sticking out his glossia and lapping up a tiny bit of foam from the corner that his younger sibling hadn’t had his mouth on. He wrinkled his face in displeasure at the sweetness of the beverage, before he neatly spat the foam back into his younger brother’s drink. 

“There. Now we’re even.” Nightlatch stated, before he took another neat little sip from his mug of crude oil. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in the hint of a smug grin as he watched Pounce’s reaction. 

Pounce sat there staring in surprise for a moment, before he covered his intake, trying to hide the smile that was stretching across his face. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. “Pah-! Look at your face!” he cried out, leaning forward and slapping his knee plating while shaking his helm. 

“What about my face?” Nightlatch asked with a scowl.

“You’re smiling!” Pounce laughed, grinning from audial to audial. 

“Am not.” Nightlatch stated, although a smile attempted to make its way upon his face in reaction to seeing his brother’s laughter. 

“Are too!” Pounce guffawed. 

“I never smile on duty.” Nightlatch huffed, taking another sip of his crude oil to try and hide his amusement. 

“You’re smiling right now-!” Pounce smugly replied, reaching over and gently pulling Nightlatch’s mug away from his intake, careful not to spill the drink.

“Stop that-” Nightlatch growled. “I am not-....” he paused a moment, staring into Pounce’s optics before he shook his helm and relented. “Okay. Fine. I am. But so what. I’m still much more dignified than you are.” 

Pounce’s laughter died down and he let out a wistful sigh, before he leaned over and rested his head on Nightlatch’s arm. “I like it when you smile. It makes you look more like a person rather than a mindless law enforcing drone.” 

“I am not-!” Nightlatch protested, giving Pounce a light shove and pushing him away from his arm. 

“Well, sometimes you act like one. C’mon, Night. Loosen up and have a little more fun. You need to laugh on the job or else you’ll shrivel up and become all rusty and then no one’ll like you.” Pounce replied. 

“It doesn’t matter who does and doesn’t like me. What matters is following the law and putting the bad bots behind bars. You need to take things more seriously, or else you’ll end up dead over some dumb joke. The world is not all starlight and mineral flakes. It’s gritty and rough and you have to be strong to survive. You aren’t going to get by by being just another friendly face. You need to be better at looking for the worst in people. What are their darkest secrets? What would motivate them towards a crime? Given the right motivations, anyone is capable of murder. Being an enforcer is about weeding out the bots with the worst capabilities and bringing them to justice before they can do damage to the rest of the population. Making friends is not going to keep you alive. Everyone has an ulterior motive, and given the right incentive, almost anyone can betray you.” Nightlatch lectured. 

Pounce fell silent for a moment, before he nodded. “Wow… you seem to have had that locked up in your head for quite some time. Is there anything in particular I did awhile back that made you mad that you just haven’t told me about yet?” he asked. 

“I’m… I’m not mad. Just worried, that’s all. You tend to think more with your spark than with your processor, and it’s going to get you hurt someday, and I might not always be around to save you. You’re soft, Pounce. A bit too soft, and you always see the good in people, some of which should never be given another chance. You can’t keep hoping and believing in the best, because sometimes all anyone will have is the absolute worst.” Nightlatch replied, setting his oil down and putting a servo on his brother’s shoulder. 

Pounce smiled softly, dipping his helm in another nod. “I care about people, Nightlatch. You seem to care more about the evidence and the numbers. I know everyone has darkness inside them, but if that’s all you look for, then it’s all that you’ll find. But if you look for the light, then there’s a chance that you can save a person from themself. If you give people second chances, then sure… they might stab you in the back and run for the hills, but at least they have a chance of choosing something better. And… I’m not that quivering little kid your parents found on the streets any more. I’m older now, and I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me so much.” 

Nightlatch lowered his gaze, giving Pounce a long sigh. “I know-... I know you’re not... I just… you’re still young. You still remind me of that lost little kid. Maybe if you acted more like a grown mech and didn’t drown yourself in whipped energon and get excited every time we pass a sweets store, then maybe I’d treat you more like one.” 

“Are you kidding? I wasn’t allowed to have this much whipped energon when I was younger! Sire and Carrier never would’ve allowed it!” Pounce exclaimed, picking up his cube full of froth and taking a hearty swig. 

Nightlatch buried his face in his servos and shook his helm. “There are reasons for that, you know.” He grumbled. 

“Well, none of those reasons are good enough to stop me from enjoying myself.” Pounce replied with a shrug. 

“If I have to carry you home because you’re too full of that stuff to walk out on your own, or worse yet, if I have to take you to a medic because you’ve over-fueled and your tank hurts, you are not going to hear the end of it.” Nightlatch grumbled. 

Pounce took another gulp and shook his helm. “Aw, please. I’ll be fine.”

“There will eventually be consequences for you drinking that stuff.”

“Great. I’ll suffer them when they come, but right now, I’d just like to revel in how good this stuff is-!” Pounce replied. 

Nightlatch shook his helm, taking a sip from his own mug of oil. “Glad you’re enjoying it.” 

“This is so worth the consequences-” Pounce chirped, smiling at his sibling. 


End file.
